


Sorrow

by Blush8657



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Heavy Angst, Love, Past Rape/Non-con, Trauma, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 08:33:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24966769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blush8657/pseuds/Blush8657
Summary: How do the Cuthberts' cope when their rock is slowly crumbling before them?
Relationships: Marilla Cuthbert & Anne Shirley, Marilla Cuthbert & Matthew Cuthbert & Anne Shirley, Marilla Cuthbert & Rachel Lynde, Matthew Cuthbert & Anne Shirley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Strangers at Green Gables](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23430004) by [LavernaG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavernaG/pseuds/LavernaG). 



> T/W - Please check you are comfortable with all tags as this fic contains graphic scenes of violence. Please read at your own discretion.
> 
> This work is inspired by 'Strangers at Green Gables' by LavernaG. Please read that first as my fic goes on to explore further on how Marilla and the family cope following her attack. 
> 
> Thank you LavernaG for giving me permission to to write a follow up and for all your advice and input!  
> (Also check out LavernaG's other work if you are a Marilla fan as she is a marvellous writer!)
> 
> Thank you for reading :-)  
> Feedback and kudos' encouraged! xx

Marilla stepped gingerly into the bathtub. She hissed at the burn from the scalding water but did not wait until it got to a comfortable temperature. A small whimper escaped her as she lowered her body into the tub, the water stinging the abrasions on her tender parts, once again serving as a reminder of her violation.

* * *

Anne walked back into the parlour and sat down next to Matthew, wordlessly.

A few moments passed between them, before Matthew noticed the young girl’s gloomy demeanour. She had not said anything – which in itself was uncharacteristic, but seemed restless, nonetheless.

“Is…is something troubling you, Anne?” He asked, unsure of how to proceed. He hadn’t really had, or if he was being honest with himself, _made_ the opportunity to discuss yesterday’s events with Anne.

Anne fiddled with the hem of her dress. “I’ve just helped Marilla run a bath.”

Matthew nodded, waiting for her to continue.

Anne looked up at him expectantly, her big green eyes harbouring the weight of the world.

Matthew blinked, searching the girl’s face for a reason why her statement should be so troubling. “Well now, that’s awfully helpful of you. I know Marilla appreciates it.”

“I’ve helped Marilla run a bath… _again_ , Matthew.”

Matthew shook his head, still not understanding the child’s concerns.

Anne sighed in exasperation. “This is the _third_ time since yesterday. She normally bathes twice in a full seven days. Why is she behaving so strangely? I _know_ they hurt her, but they… they hurt me too!” Matthew’s eyes widened at this.

Anne’s voice began to get louder as she continued. “He - he put a _gun_ to my face, Matthew! It’s true what they say, the whole world does seem to come to an abrupt stop when you are looking directly into that barrel! I – I kept waiting… for it to end, the life I’ve just found to be…snatched away just like that. But then they took Marilla upstairs instead. I – I tried to help her Matthew!” Frantic tears were now running down Anne’s pale cheeks. “I really tried but, but they were too strong. Nate hit me and he pushed me down the stairs! I couldn’t breathe at first, I thought I was dying.”

She was sobbing now, and Matthew gently wrapped his arms around his little girl. “There, there now…” he tried to comfort her somewhat clumsily. “You’re safe now, the both of you. That’s what matters.”

“I heard her screaming! But I couldn’t move. Then when I realised that, mercifully, nothing was broken…I ran! I – I should have stayed to help her. Then m-maybe they wouldn’t have hurt her so much and – and everything could be back to normal and Marilla would stop behaving so peculiarly!”

* * *

An anguished sob escaped Marilla as she scrubbed at her skin furiously with a brush; however, the marks – _their_ marks, remained. She had to get them off of her, she had to be clean again.

The distorted, twisted faces of the men up close flashed into her mind intrusively. Nate laughing cruelly as he held her so tightly by her hips that he had left a colourful cacophony of bright blue hand prints over her pale skin. She scrubbed at the angry red welts on her breasts left by Dunlop’s teeth. She washed between her legs, tears trailing down her face as the memories and sensations of her violation came flooding back. She could _see and feel_ those despicable creatures as though they were _right there_.

She could hear her voice, pleading with them, **begging,** over and over, to be spared, and she would never mention this to a soul _._ Hands were ripping off her corset, leaving her more exposed and vulnerable than she had ever remembered feeling. She was trying to clumsily cover herself when a searing pain in her private area shocked her into a stunned momentary silence. Marilla’s body was not prepared when Nate had thrust into her.

_The sensation felt alien and so wrong. Only the intensity of the burning pain was forcing her out of her stupor, and she felt a blood curdling scream rip out of her._

Marilla tried to will away the memory of Nate grabbing her face painfully, striking her repeatedly and bursting her lip when she had cried out too loudly or was “not cooperating” as he wished her to.

_“Maybe this will shut you up,” he barked as he pulled out of her and flipped her onto her stomach like a rag-doll, before taking his place between her legs again._

He had pushed her head down onto the pillow, muffling her sobs, until –

_“Look at me,” he muttered._

She recalled crying out at the overwhelming pain as his hips had suddenly began to thrust faster and more roughly into her.

_“I said look at me, or I get the girl!”_

_Marilla’s heart seemed to stop for a moment. (No. He couldn’t touch Anne). She turned her head to the side, trying to do as the man instructed, before he grabbed her harshly by the hair, lifting her head, and forced her to turn to him. His eyes were glazed over. “For an old maid, Miss Marilla, you sure fit me like a glove.”_

She grimaced, remembering… _seeing,_ his… expression. _The way his face was scrunching up… the animalistic grunts he was letting out, before stilling, and finally collapsing onto her._

Dunlop had been almost worse than Nate.

_“Please, no more,” Marilla cried quietly._

He was heavier than Nate and had opted turn her over again to lie on top of her, suffocating her with his large frame. She still remembered his odour; sweat and alcohol, and suppressed a gag.

Marilla’s eyes stung from her tears, yet the scene played out in her head vividly.

_He was looking at her almost… kindly, giving her the briefest glimmers of hope. He was not as violent. But his initial ‘gentleness’ was cruel in itself._

_“There now…,” He took out a handkerchief and wiped at her cheeks. “You’ll make yourself ill.”_

Bile rose in Marilla’s mouth as she remembered him trying to kiss her. As though they were lovers.

_She bit him, causing him to yelp comically. A dark expression came over his face, the niceties were over._

He too raped her.

Marilla suddenly wiped away her tears as a matter-of-factly and sat up in the now lukewarm bath. Her skin was raw, but she was clean. At least for now. She had to be, she couldn’t allow herself to taint Anne, ( _Oh, Anne…)_ with their ‘essence’ on her. Another sob bubbled in the pit of her stomach as she thought about the little girl in the next room. How it pained her that Anne had lived a life exposed to such atrocities, and she had only added to this. She hadn’t protected her girl as a proper mother would have. They had man-handled her in front of Marilla. Still, Marilla thanked God from the bottom of her heart that the child had escaped the worst of their actions. For if it meant sparing Anne, she would suffer through this indignity and shame a thousand times over.

As if on cue, Anne’s voice tentatively called out over the screen.

“Marilla? You’ve been in there an awfully long time…”

Marilla quickly washed away her tears lest the child walk past the screen and see her like this.

She had been so horribly ashamed to be discovered so ‘exposed’ by Anne and Rachel. Her whole life had been lived with her feelings buried under the surface – for the most part, anyhow. There was no time for them. So why couldn’t she control her tears this time? Why were her fears right at the surface? Why was her violation written all over her for all and sundry to see? She heard the pity in Rachel’s voice, and it shamed her to know that Thomas Lynde would know every detail about her ordeal. She feared that the Barry’s would put an end to their daughter’s friendship with Anne lest she be tarnished by association. No, she had to gather herself and her thoughts together. She had to be strong.

“I will be out in a moment. Anne, please get ready for bed.”

* * *

She shot up in bed, panting, arms flailing wildly against the body trying to hold her down.

“No…not again...please.” Her own weak voice sounded alien to her ears.

They were back.

“ _Marilla.”_

She had to stop them. She could not suffer this indignity again.

“ _Marilla!”_

She felt her arms weaken. Dear God, have mercy on her!

_“Marilla, stop!”_

Marilla gasped. Her eyes blinked rapidly in the dark. She was in her room, in her bed. Nothing was amiss, she noted as her eyes adjusted to the silhouettes.

She suddenly caught sight of a small movement and shrunk back. Until a candle was lit, emanating a dull, comforting glow.

Frightened green eyes came into focus as Anne looked up at her anxiously.

“Marilla?” She stepped forward cautiously, in fear that the older woman thwart her attempts at comforting her again.

“Oh…” Marilla gasped softly as her body relaxed. Her heart was still thudding in her chest, but she willed it to calm. Clearing her throat, she made an attempt to collect herself. Or at least to try to _appear_ to be so. “Anne…I’m sorry if…if I startled you.”

Anne nodded. “Oh Marilla, you were in the midst of a most troublesome nightmare! I - I tried to help but I seemed to be doing quite the opposite…”

Marilla looked away guiltily. “Come back into bed. I’m fine,” she assured the girl. “No – leave the lamp on, I will tend to it shortly.” Truth be told, Marilla found that the darkness no longer provided her with the calm and serenity it once had.

Anne climbed back into Marilla’s bed. She had been surprised to find that even on the fourth night following that _most awful_ of days, Marilla did not refuse her from her bed. It troubled her that Marilla was still not recovered, not even one bit. In fact, from her observations, Marilla seemed to be falling further into despair. She barely ate, only doing so when nagged by Mrs Lynde. She barely spoke, only responding in one-word answers, or staring off into the distance with sorrowful blue eyes. 

Rather than allowing herself to recuperate, she was suddenly spending her time cleaning every visible surface in the house. Repeatedly. Hours were spent in Anne’s room alone, with Marilla furiously scrubbing at the floor and her bedposts and her windowsills and the walls. Her poor hands were beginning to crack and bleed from the harsh conditions she was keeping them in. Anne winced as she recalled their appearance whilst applying Mrs Barry’s soothing ointments to them. Despite this, no amount of coaxing or offers of help from Anne or Matthew would derail her from her mission.

Marilla’s lack of appetite meant that she’d forget to prepare nourishment for her family, forcing Anne to take on this duty. Anne did not mind however, she was more than willing to carry out all the chores and help. If it meant that her darling Marilla would just get better, she would go to the end of the world and back.

Anne lay on her side, facing Marilla, and noted in response to her previous pondering on whether grown up’s cried, tears glistening in the older woman’s eyes. She observed Marilla’s bone structure, her straight regal nose. No bruising or cuts or blemishes could hide that she must have been so very striking in her girlhood. A pang of envy hit Anne; however, she banished the wicked feeling away just as quickly.

Cautiously, she reached her arm over and around Marilla’s waist to draw her in, and gently rested her head on her chest. She felt Marilla tense up completely and braced herself for some harsh words. But none came. In a little while Marilla’s body relaxed somewhat, and Anne breathed in her comforting scent of lavender oil and roses.

“Marilla?”

“Hmm…?”

Anne felt the silence hang thickly. What could she possibly say? How could she even begin to atone for abandoning Marilla?

“…I…I washed all the bed linen today. So, you don’t have to.”

Marilla smiled gently. She had truly lucked out with such a sweet natured and helpful child.

“You are a good girl, Anne. Thank you.”

She felt Marilla’s fingers softly stroke her head as she slowly succumbed to a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Rachel Lynde came bustling into the Cuthbert’s’ empty kitchen and placed a basket on the table, before removing her coat and hat to hang on to the hooks by the door.

A slightly dishevelled Marilla walked in from the parlour carrying a bucket. “I just cleaned in here Rachel.” A mild tone of annoyance and weariness laced her words as she picked up the basket and placed it on the edge of the sink.

“I brought fresh scones.” Rachel remarked lightly.

Marilla nodded in a gesture of appreciation as she began to wipe down the table, before turning her scrubbing brush to the edges of the basket.

“I’m sure Anne and Matthew will be appreciative. I’ve…I’ve been a little preoccupied with a Spring Clean.”

“Yes, well, why don’t we sit down. I could do with replenishment.” The stout woman gently took the basket out of her friend’s grasp and lead them both to have a seat. “Ah, I see the water is already boiled.” Rachel bustled about gathering cups and saucers and prepared tea.

Marilla sat, somewhat awkwardly. She appreciated Rachel checking in, but she was too busy for this. She had things to do. A full trunk of old clothes she could pass on to Anne needed to be washed and dried and ironed, for a start.

“I take it Matthew is out on the farm. And Anne?” Rachel inquired as she placed a hot cup of tea in front of her friend and sat next to her.

“I let her sleep in. Poor soul hasn’t been sleeping well.” Lines of worry creased Marilla’s forehead.

Rachel nodded understandingly. “And you?”

Marilla took a sip of tea and waved Rachel’s questioning off. “Oh, I’m perfectly fine. Nothing I can’t deal with. I just thank the Lord that Anne was spared.” Her voice broke unexpectedly, however Marilla quickly collected herself.

Rachel wasn’t convinced. She sat back and observed her oldest friend. More like sister in actual fact. She looked tired. No. She looked _worn out._ Exhausted. Marilla’s skin was pale, her eyes sunken and drawn. Her cut lip was on its way to healing as were her bruises. Well, the ones Rachel could see anyway. A pang of sorrow shot through Rachel as the image of Marilla as she had first found her a week ago flashed through her mind.

She looked up at Marilla and placed a hand on her elbow. “Marilla, how are you… really?” She asked kindly. Leaning in conspiratorially, she went on, “You _may_ or _may not_ have heard on the grapevine that… I _can_ be quite persuasive; I won’t leave the subject be until you tell me the truth.”

A ghost of a smile passed by Marilla’s lips as she saw her friend’s sincerity. No longer feeling like she needed to put on an act, her whole body physically deflated, her shoulders dropped, and her head hung low.

“I’m afraid, Rachel.” Marilla confessed. “I keep thinking I can see them from the corner of my eye just… walking in. When I close my eyes, I can see their faces,” She brought a hand up to hold it an inch away from her face, “…this close to mine.” She swallowed a lump and blinked away tears as Rachel gently rubbed at her arm.

* * *

Anne climbed out of bed groggily, surprised that she had slept in as late as she did. Even more so that she had been allowed to. She had to help Marilla. Speaking of whom, her ears pricked up as she heard voices downstairs and recognised the other as Mrs Lynde’s. They sounded hushed and…upset. Then she heard her name.

Tiptoeing across the hallway in her socks, Anne’s curiosity got the better of her and she placed herself at the top of the stairs to hear better.

* * *

“I… It hurts, inside. My stomach…my legs…” Marilla’s lip quivered as she opened up. “I’ve stopped bleeding now.” Tears fell silently down her cheeks.

Rachel nodded in sympathy. “At least you can be sure about pregnancy.”

* * *

 _Pregnancy?!_ Anne’s eyes widened in shock and she let out an involuntary gasp before stifling it quickly with her hands.

A million thoughts raced through the young girl’s active mind. Marilla had explained the ways of nature to Anne when she had first experienced her monthly ‘womanly flowering’.

Women bled monthly for a good part of their lives so that babies could be made “ _with a man and a wife only_ ”, through an act that Anne personally found quite unappealing. And one she was _sure_ she would never wish to partake in. It certainly explained why the women in the families she had been sent to live with prior to the Cuthbert’s’ were always pregnant and miserable with a gaggle of equally miserable children.

Marilla had said she no longer had her monthly, but if she had just mentioned it to Mrs Lynde…Wait - was…was that what Nate and Mr Dunlop wanted with Marilla? To make a _baby_?!

Panicked, Anne’s heart began to race.

* * *

Rachel had tried to say something helpful but chided herself at what even _she_ recognised as an insensitive statement. “What I mean is-“

“It’s alright Rachel, I understand.” Marilla interjected quietly.

After a brief moment of silence, Marilla looked at her friend with glassy eyes. They seemed to be conveying a question that the woman herself could not verbalise.

“Marilla?”

“Is - is that what it’s supposed to…to _feel_ like?” her voice was small, childlike almost.

Rachel shook her head, brows furrowing in confusion “Feel like?”

Marilla hesitated. “The pain...”

At this, Rachel shot forward, swept Marilla into her arms, and held her close. “Oh… my dear heart. What those ‘ _men_ ’,” She spat the word out with venom, “…did to you, was nothing short of barbaric. They ought to be castrated. No, the _real_ thing, it’s gentle and beautiful... I’m so sorry Marilla.”

Rachel embraced Marilla even tighter as she heard muffled sobs escape. The unspoken statement between them acknowledging that Marilla would sadly never experience love and gentleness like that in her lifetime.

* * *

Anne sat quietly on the sofa by the lit hearth, the fire casting an intimate glow in the parlour. Matthew had retired to bed, and she had decided to stay downstairs for a while to finish off some needlepoint. Marilla sat on the other end doing likewise.

She cast furtive glances at the older woman, who was in her lose, flowing nightdress. It had now been over a week since Anne had eavesdropped into a conversation that she knew she had no business listening in to. However, the information she had come by had been ruminating in her mind over and over since, and she felt that she would simply _combust_ if she had to keep it to herself a moment longer!

“Have I sprouted a second head, Anne?”

“Hmm?” Anne panicked. “No, no. I was just thinking.”

Marilla kept quiet, allowing Anne to continue should she wish to.

Anne could hear the blood rushing about in her ears. “I…I was just thinking how fortunate it is that I have experience of caring for new-borns and toddlers.”

Marilla raised an eyebrow in response but did not lift her head.

Anne continued, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I can’t tell you how many mothers cannot tell the difference between a colic cry and a hunger cry or even a nappy change cry! But we need not worry about that, between the two of us, it will have a home where it’s loved and cherished and-and I will look after it at night time so you can get be rested for the morning when I’m at school…”

Marilla stopped dead in her tracks. Slowly, she turned to face Anne who was still rambling on, horrified at what it was the young girl seemed to be telling her. She was just a child still! _Surely_ she hadn’t partaken in…no. She couldn’t have. Unless…the lodgers…

“Anne…” her mouth suddenly went dry and she felt light-headed. She kept her tone measured so as not to startle the girl. “Why are you talking about a baby?”

Anne looked at Marilla, scared that she had been caught listening to grown up conversation.

“I – uh…Nate and Mr Dunlop…they wanted to make a baby…I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have-”

The blood drained from Marilla’s face entirely and Anne was sure she was going to faint before her.

“Marilla?”

Marilla shook her head, stunned. How could she not have noticed? How could she not have seen it? The fat one was always sniffing around her Anne. But never in a million year had she thought…

Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh Anne…” She grabbed the girl’s hands and clasped tightly. What turmoil had she allowed into their home? “Please forgive me, child?”

Anne looked at her, puzzled. “Forgive you?”

“ _Why_ didn’t you tell me Anne? Which one was it?” Marilla asked, suddenly enraged that those filthy animals had laid even a finger on her.

Anne frowned and pulled her hand away from Marilla’s painful grasp. “I don’t understand Marilla. Are you alright? Is - is it your _baby_?” she whispered the last word.

Marilla recoiled as though ice-cold water had been poured over her.

“ _My_ baby? So, you’re not…” Marilla blinked trailing off, bewildered.

“Am I not, what?”

Marilla took a deep breath and tried to compose herself somewhat. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions. She reached out and put her hands on Anne’s bony shoulders, gently but firmly.

“Anne, it’s **very** important that you tell me as truthfully and as honestly as you can. Do you understand?”

Anne nodded.

“Did…did either of those two men…” How could she possibly word this to a child? She looked up to the ceiling for strength. “Did either of them ever… _touch_ you or - or hurt you, where they should not have? In your… _private_ places?”

Anne’s face went almost as red as her hair and she shook her head vigorously in the negative.

“Are you positive? I won’t be angry with you. I promise.”

“No Marilla, I promise they didn’t… do any of that.”

Marilla sagged a little in relief.

Anne continued. “But… they hurt you…didn’t they? They wanted to make a baby with you…”

It was Marilla’s turn to grow scarlet in shame. She let go of the girl and began fiddling with her needlepoint.

Marilla’s silence seemed to be answer enough for Anne. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t love the baby, it is an innocent after all. I’ve always wanted to be a big sister,” she proclaimed wistfully. “I’d teach her how to read and we can create the most _wonderful_ of stories, I’d help her to use her imagination and we can go on adventures and – “

“There is _no_ baby!” Marilla shouted irritably. “I’m sorry” she quickly added upon seeing the crestfallen face of the girl. Marilla sighed “Anne… sometimes people do terrible things because they want to. There is no rhyme nor reason behind it. Those men did what they… _did_ , simply because they could.”

Anne looked to be processing this new information.

Marilla cupped Anne’s cheek gently. “Life and heart, it will be my lifelong sorrow that I was unable to protect you from all of this.”

Anne’s devastated green eyes look deeply into Marilla’s own. “I don’t understand why _anybody_ would want to hurt _you_ Marilla…” She whispered leaping forward. Anne wrapped her arms tightly around the woman she had already come to love more than anybody else in the world. “From this moment forward," she declared resolutely, "I make a sacred vow to be your protector Marilla. I won’t let _anybody_ cause you harm. Never, **ever** again”.

Marilla returned Anne’s embrace just as tightly, marvelling at how the girl moulded against her breast perfectly so that she could envelop her fully. The child had indeed saved her, more than she would ever come to understand.


End file.
